Left Behind
by Juice8oxHer0
Summary: After saying goodbye to Chloe at the lighthouse, Max finds herself in a world without her best friend. Her guilt and misery over the week that never happened haunt her constantly, and those she left Chloe behind for have to pull her through her turmoils.


**Hey all, thanks for checking out my story. This is the first thing I've ever published, so please give me any feedback you can think of.**

 **I don't own the characters, settings, or any of that standard shit. I'm assuming no one is going to sue me over this, but you know what they say about assuming...**

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 **Chapter 1**

 **Wednesday, 1:34 PM**

The sun had risen several hours ago, but the tightly drawn blinds ensured that not a single ray of sunlight reached the bed. Not that the light would have woken Max; she hadn't slept that night, just like she hadn't the past two nights. Every time she started to drift off, a slender face framed in blue would flash through her mind.

 _Chloe_

Immediately following the face was the pain. Sometimes it manifested in loud, ugly sobs, sometimes in quiet, shuddering whimpers, and sometimes in sharp pains deep in her stomach, like she hadn't eaten in days.

To be fair, she pretty much hadn't. Killing your best friend tended to ruin your appetite.

No. Best friend didn't cover it. Chloe was a part of her. She was the rush of air escaping her lungs every time she laughed, the frantic pounding of her heart during their multitude of misadventures. The week they had spent searching for Rachel had connected them in a way that neither time nor distance could shatter.

Except that it did. That week had only happened for her. Only she remembered a world in which she had stopped Chloe from being shot, in which Kate Marsh had thrown herself from a roof, in which a larger-than-life storm had made every single event of the past five days negligible. She was the last vestige of a timeline in which Chloe Price, through all her rage and pain, her sharp edges and rough demeanor, had shown enough love to the town she hated, despised, and thrown her own life away to save Arcadia Bay. If Mrs. Hoida could hear Chloe's story, she would call her a Christ figure, telling her class to note her passionate fight for justice and redemption for the put upon members of society, ultimately ending in a martyr's sacrifice to save both her allies and her opposition. Max couldn't believe in God, not after the week she had been through, but if Chloe was Jesus, as far as Max was concerned, she was Judas.

The Chloe in this timeline, the one that bled out on that bathroom floor, died alone and abandoned. First her dad, then Max herself, and finally Rachel. At least the other two had an excuse for leaving her behind, though; it's not like they chose to die and leave Chloe behind. Max had a choice, though, and she had chosen to drop her best friend like she was nothing, just when Chloe had needed her the most, she had severed all ties and left the fatherless girl behind. As soon as the fun and games of playing pirates and dreaming about adventures had given way to the real world struggles of losing a loved one and leaving home, Max had chickened out on her best friend and left her out to dry for five years.

Max sighed, pushing her face deeper into the pillow she was using to block out the world. Five years. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't seem so long. A twentieth of the average human life, give or take. On a cosmic level, it means even less. What's five years when compared to eons of collapsing and expanding stars and galaxies. To Max, it may have meant even less than that. How can time carry any discernible meaning when a wave of your hand can undo minutes at your leisure? Once you've lived the same day thrice over, seen a half dozen different timelines over the course of a "week", the meaning of any stretch of time was lost.

But at 18 years old, five years was over a fourth of Chloe's life. A quarter of her miserably short existence she had spent feeling betrayed, forgotten, alone. And the whole thing was Max's fault.

She could go back. The blue butterfly adorning her wall seemed to mock her, a constant temptation to throw it all away. She could undo the whole thing, get her Chloe back. Fuck this whole town, as long as Chloe's okay, the whole place can rot in hell.

 _I'd love to drop a bomb on this town, turn it all to glass._

She knew that wasn't true, though. As much as she needed Chloe, she couldn't kill everyone in Arcadia Bay for her sake. It wasn't what Chloe had wanted. She was okay with it, throwing away her life to save the town. How would she feel if she had lost even more people she cared about? Everyone she'd ever known and gone would have been dead. Except for her. Stupid, worthless Max. Leaves her for half a decade and then comes back for a week, just to annihilate her home. That's not what her Chloe, the Chloe she kissed in her final moments, would have wanted.

Max's fingers lightly traced her lips, trying to capture the ghost of her friend. Would they have been more than friends? Could they have been? They had certainly grown as close as they had been when they were kids over the course of that week, but how much of that was due to the necessity of their ridiculous situation? If it had just been the two of them, without the maelstrom of bullshit that surrounded them, could Chloe have ever forgiven her? Would she have even had the courage to actually talk to Chloe, or would she have hidden away at Blackwell until graduation? Even if they had become more, how would Max have handled it? She was such a colossal failure, she probably would have ended up rewinding every little mishap they had, bringing devastating storms on a weekly basis.

Max shook her head, trying to disperse those thoughts. Chloe wasn't even buried yet and here she was, objectifying her. Turning her nearly lifelong friend into a romantic pursuit, when she was so much more than that. She was a kind, loyal, thoughtful woman. She was a headstrong, rebellious, energetic punk girl. She was heartfelt, goofy, brave, just, more adjectives than could be found in all the world's dictionaries. But then Max came along, and now she's just a trail of corpses.

How many Chloes had she killed? The obvious and current Chloe that died at Nathan's hand, the one hit by a train, the one paralyzed by her time-traveling and then euthanized by her own hand, the one shot by that monster in the junkyard. And of course her Chloe. The one she left behind at that lighthouse.

Three soft knocks on the door pulled Max out of her daze. "Max?" A soft voice called to her from the hallway, a tenderness that didn't match the internal turmoil she knew her visitor was facing. "Max, it's me. No one's seen you since yesterday, please let me in." Even though the voice was soft and sweet, Max knew the other girl would not leave until she got what she wanted. Max managed to mumble out that the door was unlocked, and in stepped Kate.

Despite everything, Kate looked much better than she had in the week that never happened. The dark shadows under her eyes were still there, but nowhere near as pronounced as they had been. Her hair was pulled into its usual perfect bun, no longer the disheveled, barely taken care of knot it had been. Most noticeably of all, she was actually smiling; not the fake smile she had worn to get people off of her back, but an actual, warm, classic Kate smile. Sure, her eyes still had a glint of sadness, and her brows were knitted in worry, but just the sight of her friend's lips pulled upward was enough for Max to know that she was recovering. More than could be said for herself, at least.

In her hands, Kate held a small cafeteria tray, laden with a few cans of soda, sandwiches, and a bag of chips. Looking at Max's slightly sallow face, Kate's concern only deepened. In an effort to ease her friend's concern, Max sat up and patted the bed next to her. Taking a seat next to her, Kate passed the tray to Max, and said, "I know you're not ready to talk about it yet, but I'm here if you need anything. Like now. You need to eat something, Max." Of course she knew Kate was right, her rumbling stomach was proof of that, but her appetite was nonexistent. She couldn't stand to eat, the food all tasted like ash and it never made her feel any less hollow. She opened her mouth to turn down the offer, but when she saw the look in Kate's eyes, she immediately stopped. Nodding her head in thanks, she grabbed a sandwich off the plate and took a small bite. Even though she hated it, she knew she had to keep going. She had to get better. For Kate. For all of her friends.

If she were trying to recover, to become whatever remnant of the old Max she could be, she might as well start with her nosiness. "Are you okay?" Her voice was harsh, raspy from days without use. Kate gave her a quizzical look, so Max took a drink from one of the sodas and repeated her question. Kate placed a reassuring hand over hers and said, "Max, you're such a good soul. After everything that's happened, you're still worrying about me." Not looking to be praised when she considered herself a monster, Max replied, "I just know you were down the other day, to say the least. I just want to make sure you were holding up, despite everything."

At this, Kate's smile faltered, a deep frown taking its place. She paused for a while, debating on what to say. Finally, she let out a quiet sigh, "Max, how much do you know about what's been going on with me? Have you seen that awful video?" She almost told Kate exactly what she knew, but stopped herself. The Max this Kate knew, the Max she now was, wouldn't know about the video. She had never talked to this Kate about her worries, advised her against going to the police, pushed her to a rooftop. Instead she just shook her head. Kate gave her a grateful smile, "I knew you wouldn't watch that terrible thing, thank you Max. I don't want to add any more to your plate, but would it be okay with you if I told you about what's happened?" Max nodded, and they shared a conversation very similar to the one Max had lived through, but with a few notable differences: Instead of a tense and bitter exchange in Kate's blacked-out room, this version was a heartfelt exchange between two dear friends in Max's room, now lit by the noon sun due to Kate opening the blinds. The two's roles were also now reversed, with Max being the girl unbearably broken by circumstance, and Kate being hurt and confused, yet still in control. Most importantly, in this universe, Max told Kate to go to the police.

"Of course you should, Kate! Nathan might have drugged you, we can't let him get away with that, not after- not when the police already have him in custody. They know he's a violent criminal, they'll have to take your story seriously." Kate's gentle smile broke into a huge, brilliant grin at this, and she pulled Max into a fierce hug. Tears fell like rain onto Max's back and shoulder, as Kate choked out, "Thank you so much, it's been so long since I've felt like I had anyone on my side. I swear, you're my guardian angel, always watching over me, and I promise I'll do the same for you." At this, Kate reluctantly released her friend, pulling back and looking into her eyes. "As soon as you need anything at all, you let me know. I meant what I said before, Max; we will get through this. Do you want to talk about it yet? No pressure if you're not ready." She thought about it, she really did. She just couldn't, though; not yet. She knew she could talk to Kate about anything, but it was too fresh to launch into it, at least for the time being. Max gently shook her head, and Kate put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's okay, I'll be here for you when you are. Just don't make the same mistake I did; you're not alone in this, Max. You've got so many friends who care so much about you, and we're here for you through all of this."

It was hard, but Max did it. For the first time since she woke up in the Dark Room, Max smiled a genuine, happy smile. "Thank you, Kate. You have no idea how hella bad I needed to hear that. I promise, as soon as I'm ready to talk, you'll be the first person I call." Despite the warm sentiments, the heavy flow of emotions had left her completely drained. "I'm really sorry, but I'm completely wiped. Can I get some shut eye? When I come to, I'll text you and we can start planning our next tea date." Standing up, she hugged Kate one more time and said her farewells. After shutting her door, Max collapsed on her bed as glorious sleep finally overtook her.

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 **Thanks for taking the time to check this out! Please leave your feedback so I can create better content in the future. Is the formatting okay? Is it too long? Too short? Am I a horrible writer that needs to never blemish the internet again? Have a great day and don't drink and drive, kids!**


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